


Book of My Life

by JoeyChanSan



Category: Free!
Genre: 2AM word vomit, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 06:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4596993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoeyChanSan/pseuds/JoeyChanSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some nights Rin can’t sleep</p>
            </blockquote>





	Book of My Life

**Author's Note:**

> This is a translation of the spanish fic I posted a few days ago, since I figured more people would be able to read it in english than in spanish. 
> 
> I started writing this way before Eternal Summer aired, so maybe some things will not make sense at all. But, oh well, it’s not like this fic has a plot or something lmao.
> 
> This version has been betaed by the Homodachi.
> 
> Inspired by Book of my life, by Sting.
> 
> Enjoy!

There were some nights in which Rin couldn’t sleep. The sleepless night were less and less frequent as the years went by and since his life started to get back in track. But there were still some nights in which the insomnia attacked. Those were the nights Rin spent sitting in bed with his back pressed against the headrest, letting his thoughts wander aimlessly without starting with one in particular.

On those nights, while he was in bed staring at the ceiling, the wall or the small sliver of the night sky he could see through the window, Rin felt as in he was reading a book only he could read. The book of his life. Chapter by chapter. Page by page. Word by word.

On the worst nights, those in which his sleeplessness was caused by one of his old nightmares that from time to time came to torment him, it was the turn of the long chapter of mistakes. In that chapter, not all the words hurt the same. Some of the stories narrated in that installment were old, so old that the wounds had healed a long time ago and they were nothing but thin, pale lines on the skin surrounding them. But there were also stories that are more recent, with wounds that still bleed from time to time. And Rin knew which ones were the tales that hurt most: the ones which pages were dedicated to Haruka. He was completely aware of the pain he had caused the raven through the years with his selfishness and his demands.

One of the stories that stood out was the one that told how Haruka had stopped swimming competitively after that race in one of his brief returns to Japan for the holidays, even if it was his biggest passion. And all because Rin hadn’t been honest with the other boy and had kept to himself the reasons that had lead him to run away after losing. 

Sometimes, as Haru’s hurt and confused expression when he had yanked his arm away as he desperately tried to hold back his tears played on his mind, Rin asked himself how Haru’s life would’ve been if he had been honest with him. If he had shared his thoughts and had told him everything in that moment and not years later like he’d done… would Haruka had kept swimming and winning every tournament thrown in his face all over Japan? Probably yes. Haruka had forgiven him for that. But, despite knowing Haru’s words were sincere, it had taken Rin years to forgive himself completely.

Amongst those pages filled with mistakes was also the story of how he had forced Haru to swim again without even stopping to think about Haru’s reasons for quitting swimming in the first place. And all because he was still chained to a past that he himself was clinging with teeth and nails to, and couldn’t move forward. At that time, he hadn’t stopped to think about what had made Haru change his mind either; he had gotten what he wanted, and it had been enough. If he had done so, maybe he would've seen how there was someone that still believed in him and hadn’t given up on him when Rin himself had. And maybe, just maybe, things would’ve been different. Easier. Less painful.

Maybe then he wouldn’t have been a witness of how all traces of light had left those ocean deep blue eyes after that race at the regionals, when he had told Haruka he wouldn’t swim with him again. Even if he hadn’t done anything at that time, that didn’t mean he hadn’t noticed the shock his words had been for Haru. He had just chosen to ignore it.

Maybe then he would’ve save himself all that misdirected anger at misunderstanding Haruka’s intentions when he had failed in a way he himself deemed humiliating. Anger that, of course, Haruka (or any other of the Iwatobi boys) didn’t deserve when the only thing he had done was run after Rin to look for him, and give him the chance to have what he so desperately wanted. Even after the redhead had treated him as something disposable and do the very same thing he had promised the raven he wouldn’t do, no matter what the result was: quit swimming.

A tale shorter and less painful than the previous ones was the story of how a few months after that medley relay that had set a new beginning for him, Rin had started to withdraw to himself again when he had started realizing that what he felt for Haru was more than the mere friendship and admiration he had made himself believe it was. The possibility of Haru’s rejection terrified him so much that, instead of facing his fears head on, he had ran away again like a coward without any sort of explanation. He was lucky Haruka had been more stubborn than him and had refused to leave him alone. Very, very lucky.

 

That book had a chapter of loss, too. The pages that stood out in it were the ones dedicated to his father. That had been the loss that left the deepest mark on him, what had made him who he was today. It was a chapter Rin didn’t visit often. As the years went by, he had learnt to accept he wouldn’t accomplish anything if he kept holding onto the things he lost, and that what he had to do was learn from those losses, accept them and move forward.

 

The chapter dedicated to his secrets was the one that had grown less through the years, if it ever did. It was also the only one he had shared when the darkness hadn’t been his only companion on his sleepless nights.

Haruka knew every word written on those pages. And, if the few blank pages it had were to be filled someday, it would stay like that. He would never again hide something from the boy with the bright blue look that had been there to pick him up when he had hit rock bottom. From that boy that had armed himself with patience and had taught him that he wasn’t the failure he had convinced himself he was. And how right he had been, if the medals hanging from the living room wall were anything to go by.

 

But inside that book in which the words accumulated day by day, weaving new tales, not everything were mistakes, loses and secrets. Not everything was negative and painful. Endless dozens of pages were filled with happy moments that put a smile in both Rin’s eyes and mouth when he allowed the nostalgia to guide his nocturnal ramblings.

Not as long as the chapter of errors, but still plenty extensive with a considerable amount of pages filled, was the chapter of victories. And, contrary to the first one, this chapter grew day by day; sometimes with small things that most of people wouldn’t consider a victory per se, sometimes with big achievements that would be remembered for years. But that wasn’t the greatest difference between the two chapters. The biggest difference was the number of blank pages waiting to be filled.

That chapter was open by that relay they had won when they were just innocent kids, and had been left forgotten and avoided equally for four long years, until the relay that had meant a new beginning in Rin’s life.

From that moment onwards, from that starting point, a vast number of its sheets had been filled. Most of the blanks pages that had been filled over Rin’s teenage years had been with Samezuka, after he’d been appointed captain of the swimming team. Following those ones were the victories (national and international) that he had obtained in Australia with his university swimming team. Rin cherished and held dear every single one of those victories.

But none of them were as bright as the two tales that were the beginning of that chapter.

There was also the story that spoke about the victory in the first Olympics Rin had competed in. Double victory, in fact. He had won gold in the one hundred butterfly and in the medley relay. The very same relay Haruka had closed with that swimming style of his that stole his breath and made his heart stop for a couple of seconds before it started beating again at a mile per hour. He remembered clearly the euphory and happiness he had felt when he finally achieved that for what he had been fighting all his life. What had been another person’s dream at first and had become his own. The very same dream he had shared later with Haruka.

 

But none of those chapters were the ones Rin had been reading that night, no. That night he had dedicate it to go through the lengthy chapter of love. That one chapter in which the ink that gave form to the words fillings the endless pages never dried completely. That one chapter that never stop growing day by day. Minute by minute. That one chapter dedicated completely to one person: Nanase Haruka.

If he asked someone where did they think that chapter began, that someone’s answer would very likely be the first word had been written after the relay on their second year of high school. But that someone would be wrong. Very, very wrong. That chapter had started years before that, the very same day Rin had seen Haruka swim for the first time in his life. The same day his heart had stopped for the first time at seeing a boy jump and slide through the water as if he didn’t belong to the earth and the water had been nis natural environment from the start.

If there was something Rin was completely certain, was that the blank sheets waiting to be filled in that chapter would only end the day he wasn’t there anymore. And that, even after death, neither the ink in which those words were written nor his love for Haru would dry, no matter how many times their souls reincarnated, starting new books with empty pages to fill with new experiences.

 

Hours later, not even he himself knew how many, Rin turned his head to the side and smiled lovingly at the serenely sleeping boy beside him while clinging to the hem of that shirt with the horrible mascot the raven always made him wear. Haruka. His shining. His everything.

If it was with him, Rin didn’t care if the ink never dried completely or that they were still endless pages to be filled with words of love. Because as long as he had Haru by his side, Rin could feel what it was like to be _alive._


End file.
